


Making Up For It

by ghostofachancewithyou



Series: Barba/Reader smut [4]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Arguing, Bickering, Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Het, PIV, Relationship Problems, Romance, Self-Insert, Smut, Squirting, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofachancewithyou/pseuds/ghostofachancewithyou
Summary: You are pissed: Barba forgot an anniversary. But boy does he make up for it!Based on this tumblr request:Could you please do a fluffy AND smutty Barba x reader, where reader is lounging around wanting some alone time with Rafi





	Making Up For It

Rafael was on the phone when he entered the apartment. He found you lounging on the sofa in the living room and walked over to you.

“I have to–”, a kiss on the cheek, “make two calls–”, a peck on the mouth, “then I’m all yours, okay?”

*

That had been thirty minutes ago. Rafael was still wearing his shoes and paced up and down the living room. The clacking sound of his soles on the floor were beginning to drive you insane. From what you had gathered, he was on a conference call with Lt. Benson and his boss, the new Executive ADA.

“With all due respect, that would be unreasonable at this stage of the–no, that’s not what I said at all. Fine, call Carisi. I’ll wait.”

 _That’s it._ You got up with a jolt and briskly walked over to the dining area in one corner of your living room. Rummaging through some files now, Rafael didn’t notice that you blew out the candles, took the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and stormed into the kitchen. What was that smell? Oh great. You pulled the potato gratin out of the oven and the saucepan from the stove top. Ruined. The food, the evening. Everything?

Rafael must’ve finally noticed that the world didn’t only revolve around law and order– he had finally come after you and you bumped into him when you left the kitchen. He still had the phone pressed to his ear, but he frowned and mouthed the words “What’s wrong?”

You gave no answer, you didn’t even look at him. _“What’s wrong?”_ How dare he. Last night you had asked him to come home a bit earlier today and that you’d take care of dinner. He had been more absent-minded and tired than usual but assured you he would – and didn’t ask why … which meant he hadn’t forgotten why this evening was special. He _couldn’t_ have, right? But then he had kissed you and done that thing you _really_ liked and … making sure you were on the same page about tonight didn’t seem that important anymore. And this morning he had left before you even woke up.

Now it was all a mess.

His job was tough. You got it. But your patience wasn’t limitless.

You had reached the hall and grabbed your gym bag that was lying next to the door. A couple of miles on the treadmill were going to do you more good than eating burnt steak and soggy potato gratin with your workaholic boyfriend.

You were about to open the door when you felt Rafael’s hand on your shoulder. You turned around, ready to yell at him. But then you saw that he was tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. The look on his face was serious and concerned.

“I’m sorry about that.” He pointed at the phone in his pocket. “Where are you going?” 

His voice was soft and timid. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“You didn’t notice the candles? The champagne? You just don’t remember _at all_ , do you?”

“Remember what?”.

He stepped closer to you and intertwined his hands with yours. You looked up at him, into the eyes of the man you loved. It could all be so easy.

“It’s the 16th. Ring a bell? Anniversary of our first date?”

Rafael’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again.

“[Y/N], I didn’t–I didn’t realize it was today.”

“And it didn’t ring a bell when I asked you to be home before seven tonight? And that I was going to cook for us.”

“Well, that _should’ve_ raised my suspicions–”

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry.” Rafael took your right hand and kissed it. “I really am. I know we were getting more serious around this time last year. How could I forget that. You started to wear that fluffy purple scarf. And that dark gray skirt. The really tight one.” He began to kiss his way up your arm now. “But we had been out for drinks as colleagues so many times that … What if I told you that I thought our lunch the week before was our first date? That’s when you started to give me these looks. You know, the way you still look at me when you want me to–”

“I’d say that it’s a pitiful excuse.”

He had kissed his way back to your fingertips.

“I guess I suck at this.”

You wish you could say you weren’t still angry. It was easy for him to make these flirty little jokes now. They weren’t really helpful when there had always been an underlying problem: Trying to make this relationship work when both of you were working close to 60 hour weeks.

But you didn’t want to talk about it. Not today.

“You can make it up to me. No more work tonight. Just you and me.”

“Sounds perfect.”

And then he kissed you. The way only Rafael could: His strong arms around your waist, his large hands alternately grabbing and caressing your ass cheeks, his tongue furiously chasing yours.  
He let go of you way too soon.

“You’re going to kill me for this … but can I call back my boss really quick? You can throw me out if I’m not in bed with you in two minutes.”

“I’m not going to kill you. But I thought you were finished?”

“No. When it looked like you were leaving, I hung up on them.”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Yes. I couldn’t just let you leave?”

“Do you want to lose your job? Call them back, NOW!”

You fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“Okay, OKAY. I got this. Don’t worry.”

How he could feel so confident about this was beyond you.

Your boyfriend was a piece of work.

**

“Rafi, please!”

His hands were fumbling with the waistband of your pants and you lifted your hips. The smirk he gave you was devilish.

“Whoops, no panties today? Putita, putita …”

He pulled your pants all the way down, until your pussy and thighs were exposed in front of him. His hands were sliding up and down your lower body, over your hips, down your legs. Roughly grabbing handfuls of you. Massaging your skin so expertly and intensely you thought you might come from that alone.

You couldn’t help but giggle when he reached your sensitive inner thighs. His hands traveled higher and your giggles turned into moans when he opened your folds and fully exposed your clit to the cool air.

“Are you ready?”

You had never said no, probably never would. But he still asked, every single time. If you had to give one reason why you loved him – this would be it.

You nodded, unable to form words, over come with emotion.

He obliged.

Rafael’s right hand slipped between your labia, searching, teasing, until he found your entrance. He plunged in deep, two fingers, deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t go further. He let you adjust for a while; it was only two fingers, but you were tight and his fingers were, well, massive. And then he began to move them. Scissoring, stretching. You couldn’t help but rut against his hand, you’d waited all day, all evening.

“Oh fuck!”

He had pulled out a little but was still filling you more than enough as his knuckles curled up and his fingertips moved to find your g-spot.

“Faster, please.”

“Think you can handle it just like that, huh? Think you can handle me? I’ll show you.”

Now he was ferociously thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You wondered how he’d be able to hold his pen tomorrow. The thought that he’d feel you tomorrow as much as you’d feel him made you moan uncontrollably.

His other hand had been caressing and pinching your stomach until now, but when Rafi saw how badly your pussy needed all of his attention, he traced a path with his digits all the way down to your clit. 

Your head tilted back. You wished you had the strength and willpower to open your eyes and see what exactly it was that he was doing to you. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop, ever.

You were getting closer now, your orgasm was almost in reach, just a little more … No! You felt his fingers sliding out of you. You’d been so close, that bastard … But there it was. His tongue. Then his lips, sucking your labia into his mouth. The wet, slurping sounds brought you closer than ever and you arched your back, pushing against him, craving as much contact as possible.

Through fluttering lids you finally managed to look down on your sweating body. All you could see was the crown of Rafael’s beautiful dark hair. His face was completely pressed against you, moving up and down, from left to right. Usually he never broke eye contact with you when he tongue-fucked you, but this was even better. Rafael, completely lost in his version of paradise, where the only thing that existed was your wet pussy and the only thing that mattered was making you come as hard as possible.

He was holding your hips down with both hands now. The rhythm his mouth had set was genius.

thud thud thud thud swirl thud thud thud thud swirl thud thud thud thud swirl thud thud thud thud swirl thud thud thud

Your hands were grasping at the sheets, your legs were shaking, you let it all go. And then it came, a stream of emotion, of wetness, you couldn’t tell it apart, you screamed his name and he hummed and moaned against you, taking in as much of your orgasm as he could.

*

He was hovering above you. Moving in and out of you, again, but this time chasing his own orgasm. He brought his still glistening face close to yours. It was an invitation. Your tongue darted forward and you began to lick him clean.

He came sooner than any of you had expected.

**

“Are you still mad at me?”

Your head was resting on his chest now. His breath was calm and steady again. You took his left nipple into your mouth and ran your fingers through his chest hair.

“I guess that’s a no,” he chuckled.

You released him with a small wet noise. “I didn’t say that. But I don’t want to talk about it right now. I enjoyed this too much. Besides, first official date isn’t as important as, like, remembering when we first met…”

“That’s easy. 4th of July.”

“Yes. I’ll never forget the first time I saw you,” you cooed.

“Me neither.”

“Or the first time we made love.”

“October 27th.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and frowned at him.

“No, 26th. Dinner at Victor’s. Then we went to my apartment. I still have it marked in my diary. I can prove it.”

Rafael sighed. “No, I know, but …”

But you had already gotten out of bed and walked over to your desk at the other side of the room, looking for something in one of the drawers.

“I’m not mad, it’s okay to be wrong once in a while.”

You ignored him.

After half a minute you found what you’d been looking for and with your old 2016 pocket diary in hands you got back into bed again.

“There it is.”

Triumphantly you handed him the open diary “Rafael. 8pm, Victor’s. 236 W 52nd.”

Rafael didn’t pay it any attention. Instead, he looked at you, a bemused expression on his face.

“We went to dinner on friday, yes. But it was after midnight when we made love. The 27th.”

Your triumphant smile faded and you sidled even closer to him.

“You were bored enough to check your watch?”

He chuckled and … blushed?

“Definitely not bored.” He composed himself and looked at you again. “You know that. How could I ever be bored when you’re around.”

You raised your head and kissed him gently on the lips.

Rafael intertwined his hand with yours.

“But I wanted to see–” he sighed before he continued, “I wanted to see how long it would take me to get you off.”

He said the last sentence so quickly that you weren’t sure you’d heard right.

You blinked at him. Then you began to roar with laughter.

“Rafi, are you serious? That’s hilarious!”

“It’s not _hilarious._ ”

The pouty and indignant look on his face was priceless.

“It is. Everything has to be a competition for you, even in the bedroom. Even if you only have yourself to compete against.”

“Well, it makes it more fun. And I’m sure you’re glad to hear that I’ve gotten so good at it that it takes half the time now. That is, if I want to,” kissing your nipple. “If I _let_ you,” kissing the other one.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving kudos or a comment if you enjoyed this.
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> [I'm on tumblr.](http://ghostofachancewithyou.tumblr.com)


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